Hey, good news! After spending the entire summer paralyzed from a back injury, Landry, my basset hound, is walking again. He can even run a bit. The old boy will always have a pronounced limp because he did not regain much feeling in one of his rear legs, but I’m going to invent an exciting tale about his weak leg, one he can tell to strangers in bars.
Something like, “He was dragging children out of a burning house when a glowing, hot timber fell on his leg. He managed to get himself and the last child out of danger, but he was scarred for life.”